


When all the Darkness Starts to Fade

by pilotstrash



Category: Twenty One Pilots
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Teenagers, Anxiety Disorder, Depression, Friendship, Homophobia, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Sad, eventual joshler, probably, theyre so in love in this fic lmao
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-22
Updated: 2016-06-18
Packaged: 2018-06-10 00:11:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6930043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pilotstrash/pseuds/pilotstrash
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tyler Joseph and Josh Dun couldn't recall a time before their first memory together. They often say to each other, in the quiet of the night when the moon is the only witness to their conversation, that their lives began with one another.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. I Want to Know

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so this is my first fic on here and also my first Twenty One Pilots fic so please bear with me and I'm sorry if I make any mistakes!! Also I'm so sorry if I tagged it wrong or anything like that, I honestly have no idea what I'm doing, but please please let me know if you enjoy this?!

Tyler Joseph and Josh Dun couldn't recall a time before their first memory together. They often say to each other, in the quiet of the night when the moon is the only witness to their conversation, that their lives began with one another. 

When they were 11 years old, Tyler was the person Josh went to when he broke his wrist. It was an accident, of course. He fell down the stairs. Of course. Tyler knew better, but he signed Josh's cast and offered him the shadow of a smile. Josh knew what his friend knew, and he left it at that. They didn't do much that summer. They ate ice pops and sat in Tyler's backyard, staring up at the sky until long after all the light had melted from it, and the first stars began to pinprick the inky blackness that they allowed to swallow them whole. Josh loved the darkness. It was only in darkness that his lips felt compelled to open - that he felt safe enough to turn to his best friend and say

"I didn't fall down the stairs." 

It came out quieter than a whisper, but Tyler stirred nonetheless.

"I know," he whispered, patiently allowing Josh to continue at his own pace, rather than bothering him with questions. Though he was young and impulsive, Tyler had an old soul when it came to Josh. He knew how to handle him, and he knew what was best for him. 

Josh's voice cracked as he willed himself to continue. 

"I.... I get nervous about stuff. Anxious. Stuff that shouldn't upset people as much as it upsets me, you know? I was like, freaking out in the store, and my dad... He didn't like it, he was embarrassed. Once we got in the car he grabbed my wrist so hard and..." 

Josh's voice trailed off into silence as one hand caressed the signature-covered cast that adorned his wrist. Tyler leaned over and patted the cast reassuringly, running his finger along it until he found where he'd signed his name. He was angry. He'd met Josh's father, had dinner with him, talked about basketball and whether or not he should build a shed in his backyard. He'd sat across the table from a monster in a mask, and taken it for a face. How could he have been so stupid? 

The next year, the boys learned the terms anxiety and panic attacks. Tyler didn't know it was possible for someone to be so happy and so miserable at the same time - but for the week after they learned those terms, Josh was. 

When they were 14 years old and Tyler's mom found his journal while she was cleaning his room, Tyler hid at Josh's house and cried into his pillow, wishing he'd never written the damn thing. Josh patted his back reassuringly, all the while texting Tyler's mom, assuring her that her son was safe and being looked after. His support for his best friend extended to his family's knowledge of his wellbeing, and Josh knew this. 

The summer that year was hot and plentiful, and the boys climbed other people's trees and balconies, and picnicked on the scaffolding of houses that hadn't been built yet. They were lying on the skeleton of a being that was yet to exist, Tyler had said. Josh smiled at this. Tyler had always been good at poetry.

Tyler loved to climb, and Josh enjoyed hearing Tyler below him, willing him on when his hands had somehow welded to the poles he was climbing up. They lived off sunshine and candy bars that year, bathed in the sweat and adrenaline of their adventures. But again, it was night that brought the friends to be sitting on a football field, with empty stadium lights (that weren't supposed to look like anything when they were turned off) glaring down at them. Stadium lights were useless, ugly things when they weren't turned on. When they weren't being used for something, they were rendered null, purposeless. Tyler nodded slightly at them. He knew the feeling. Productivity had become his only survival over the past year. He had to be creating, had to be doing. He couldn't risk standing still, allowing his thoughts to catch up with him. It wasn't safe. They were always right behind him. 

These were the words that spilled from his mouth, along with so many others, as he lay on a football field with his best friend. The darkness provided a shield which promised safety and security from the horrors of the world they were growing up into. Together, lying there, bathed in the light of the moon, they had an unspoken pact between themselves to listen, to hold judgement, and to support. At the same time they'd learned the term anxiety, Tyler had learned the word depression, and he whispered it into the night air, words catching slightly as he said them.

Josh didn't normally hug him when they said goodbye, but this time he did, and tighter than Tyler thought he'd ever been hugged before. In fact, he could still feel the hug squeezing him as he rolled over in bed that night. 

When the boys were 16, they got their first cellphones, and in the stead of talking, their communication became texting. When Josh had to be quiet, so as not to stir his brooding father and risk another bruise, Josh texted Tyler. When Tyler's throat was choked up, and he lay on his bedroom floor, feeling everything and nothing at the same time, he texted Josh. Their communication quickly went from frequent to constant, and neither boy went more than an hour without hearing from the other. 

Phone calls also became a regular occurrence. Tyler's mother often joked that she'd have to start working two jobs to support Tyler's "most expensive habit" - talking on the phone to Josh. What she didn't know is half of his bill had been chalked up in the middle of the night, when Tyler couldn't breathe or think or feel, and Josh's voice was his only beacon. 

The worst phone call came one year later. Josh had missed the calls several times before he finally woke up, bleary eyed, and scrambled to find his constantly vibrating phone. He briefly noted the time - 4:57am - before swiping the phone open and raising it to his ear. 

"Hello?" He mumbled into the receiver, even though he knew full well who he was speaking to. 

Tyler sucked in a deep breath on the other end of the line, shaky and harrowing. Josh's voice had been bleary with sleep. He shouldn't have woken him. Why did he do that? 

"Tyler?" Josh said, urgency creeping into his tired voice. 

"Josh, I-" Tyler's voice came out in a strangled sob, and Josh felt his heart plummet through the floorboards. He stayed silent, with his heart beating in his throat, willing Tyler to continue. 

"I'm- no I'm sorry I shouldn't have called- I just couldn't- I was trying and I couldn't breathe and I- I'm sorry Josh I'm really- I fucked up I'm so sorry. I fucked up and I AM fucked up. Hah."

Almost robotically as Tyler had been speaking, Josh had climbed out of bed, and was buttoning a shirt as his best friend's voice slowly simmered out, into a group of choked whimpers. Josh took a breath, willing himself to say the right thing. 

"Ty, it's okay. You're okay. You're not fucked up, you're just fine. You're allowed to be unhappy Tyler, you are, but you're okay. Keep breathing, tell me what's going on in your head."

Silence.

"Tyler?" Josh's heart was pounding at his chest.

Josh always wished that Tyler could see how loudly he cared for him. Of course, you don't normally measure emotion in volume, but to Josh it seemed right. His concern for Tyler was like an ongoing scream, never ceasing to ring in the back of Josh's mind. The sound of the love that Josh had for his best friend rang constantly in his ears, numbing every other sound to dull throbs. 

Josh wished Tyler knew that he stayed awake at nights, even when sleep was pulling greedily at his eyelids, staring at his phone screen, willing it to light up, willing Tyler to call him, to text him. Something. 

Josh had always wished that Tyler wasn't sad all the time. Wished he could take Tyler's smile at face value, rather than scanning his eyes for guaranteed authenticity. He didn't resent Tyler for being sad. He didn't blame him at all. He just wished it wasn't like this. Wished Tyler could be as happy as he deserved to be.

"Josh, I fucked up." Tyler's voice finally came floating through the receiver, no louder than a whisper. 

"What happened, Tyler?"

Immediately assuming the worst, Josh started to lace up his shoes. 

Tyler gave a low moan, letting tears fall onto his hands as he stared at the floor. 

"It was supposed to help- I- everyone said it would help Josh. But it hurts and I'm so scared, I- I don't like blood. I'm terrified, Josh. What have I done- god- I don't know what to fucking do-" 

At Tyler's words, Josh felt his heart drop like a stone. He'd never felt more petrified in his life. His best friend, the person he told everything to, the person who only rode his bike on the footpath because he was too scared to ride it near the cars. The person who's smile - when it reached his eyes - could hollow out the dark parts of Josh's soul and fill them with sunlight again. Hearing him so broken made Josh want to hurl the phone at the floor. The world wasn't fucking fair. This boy didn't deserve this. Tyler had done nothing wrong. 

"Tyler, listen to me. I need you to listen, okay?" 

"It hurts, Josh." 

"I know, Ty, I know it hurts. Focus on my voice, can you do that for me?" 

"Listen, Tyler - I have to call your mom." Josh grimaced as the words left his lips, and he waited in anticipation for Tyler's aggressive objection. Josh had his argument ready - he couldn't drive and he was over an hour away on foot, and Tyler needed help now. But no objection came. In fact, Tyler gave almost no reaction at all (save from a near silent "okay" whispered under his breath). 

This was bad.

Tyler's mom wasn't answering her phone. Who would be? It was near 5:30 in the morning, and Josh was frantically pedalling his bike against oncoming traffic as he raced towards the Joseph household, brandishing his cellphone in one hand as he repeatedly dialled the number. No answer. 

"No, no, no, please god, somebody answer. Help him."


	2. What You Think in the Morning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And that's how, at 16 years old, Joshua Dun had saved Tyler Joseph's life (for the first time)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New chapter is up! Massive TW for this one guys because there's a lot of heavily referenced self harm and stuff and I wouldn't want to upset anyone! Hope you guys like it!

Josh whispered his prayers into a saturating sky as he felt the harsh wind sticking his tears to his face. It was summer, but the mornings were crisp and chilly, and cold pinpricked Josh's bare arms. He hadn't had time to put on a jacket. 

The milky-orange light of the sunrise was visible as Josh finally pedalled up the familiar driveway of the Joseph household, flinging his bike onto the front lawn as he thundered towards the door, flinging it open desperately. He left it hanging open on his hinges as his feet carried him towards his best friend's room - littered with basketball trophies and assorted things that meant Tyler. A basketball jersey, a keyboard, his impressive display of RedBull cans, which were stacked proudly, like a house of cards, against the back wall. 

Tyler was on the ground, and within two seconds of walking in the door, Josh was next to him, hand firmly on his shoulder, pushing him upright. 

"Ty? TYLER?!" 

Tyler moaned slightly as Josh forced him to sit up. He wore a face full of tears, his eyes were so red and bloodshot Josh could barely remember the colour they had been before. His hollow, gaunt face emphasised how sunken his eyes were, and in that moment, Josh hated himself. This didn't happen overnight. How did he not see this? Why hadn't he been there before this? If he couldn't be there for Tyler then... What was he good for? 

"Josh, go away, I'm sorry." 

Josh almost scoffed at the attempted command. 

"I'm not going anywhere Tyler, sit up for me, let me see, it's okay-" 

Just as his calming voice began to have some effect, the door burst open again. Tyler's mother and father stood in the doorway, scanning the room as they tried to work through what was happening - Tyler on the floor, wrists shielded from the view of both Josh and his parents - Josh next to him with his hand on his shoulder, eyes still showing the telltale signs of sleep and hair ragged from the bike ride. Josh heard Tyler's mother make a strangled sound, and he looked down to see that Tyler had moved - and suddenly his wrists were in full view. 

It was as though a vacuum has sucked all the air from the room. Josh grabbed at his chest as he stared at his best friend and everything became real. 

"Tyler?! TYLER WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?" 

Josh flinched as Tyler's mother shoved him out of the way, grabbing at her son, enveloping him in her arms. Tears began to well up in Josh's eyes as the situation suddenly hit him through the mask of adrenaline he'd been hiding behind. 

"No, no, no, no..." 

It took him too long to realise he was speaking out loud, repeating the single word over and over. 

"No, no, no, Tyler, no, no..." 

And then the sirens were coming and everything was blurred. Tyler was calling his name from the ambulance and Tyler's dad was holding him back, telling him there wasn't enough room, that they wouldn't let Josh ride with him, that he was going straight to the hospital and that Josh could come with him, but still Josh fought against his grip, trying to get away, to get to Tyler. 

The car ride to the hospital was bleak, and the silence that filled the car sounded like a swarm of angry bees. Josh spoke only four words, first to Tyler's father, and then repeated again and again, too quietly to be audible. 

"I tried to help." 

The silence in the car start to eat away at Josh's mind, filling his head with thoughts of anything and everything. It was all too much, he needed something, something to break the silence that was beginning to consume him, but nothing came. And so, he sat, drowning in his thoughts, as the car thundered down the road to the hospital. 

When they got there, Tyler's mother was speaking - or rather crying - into a cellphone. Josh didn't particularly want to hear what she was saying, but the hysteria was raising her voice to a yell. 

"I c-can't explain everything right now, I'm sorry I-I- know it's annoying I just need you to go, they're all home alone and I- can't go home yet, please I'll explain everything..." 

Josh sat down on a chair, slamming his head back and drawing a shaky breath. His mind had been racing hot all morning, and the cold hospital wall felt good on the back of his skull. 

For the first time in his life, Josh remembered falling asleep. His head was going 100 miles an hour, but suddenly it stopped - not gently, but as though it has crashed into a brick wall, flattening his thoughts into a mess of twisted steel, and the wreckage of his mind crackled and burned as he slept, lighting like a gas fire and burning just as quickly, destroying everything in its path. 

Kelly Joseph had never seen a boy sleep so restlessly. The young boy who she'd come to know almost as well as her own sons lay sprawled across the seats on the hospital waiting room, fast asleep, but his face was anything but peaceful. She felt a tug on her heart as she looked at his face - he seemed to have aged twenty years in the last hour and a half. Kelly could relate - seeing her son on the ground, seeing the state of his wrists... It was enough to keep her awake at night for the rest of her life. She knew she should call Josh's parents, knew they'd be worried about him, but at the moment all she could think to do was stare at this boy and never look away. 

Naturally, the sound of someone busting open their door and stampeding up to her son's room had been enough to wake Kelly earlier that morning. Enough to stir her, for her to check the time on her cellphone and see all the missed calls from her son's best friend of all people. Enough for her to put two and two together and wake her husband in a flurry, rushing to the bedroom despite how petrified she was of what she might see. 

And that's how, at 16 years old Joshua Dun had saved her Tyler Joseph's life (for the first time).

Not long after that, the winter came. Josh and Tyler were closer than ever, but Josh didn't invite Tyler over to his house anymore. They met at the park, or at Tyler's house, or anywhere else they could think of. The nights came more quickly, and the cold made it almost impossible to stay outside for more than two hours at a time. But they did. 

It was a few days after New Year's, and Tyler and Josh lay on Tyler's old trampoline, staring up at the stars. Neither boy wore a jacket, and Josh's bare arms were exposed to the effects of the nights chill. Tyler, however, wore a long sleeved shirt, as usual. Still, that didn't stop him from feeling his hands go numb, all the way up his arms, and he was more aware than ever of what he was hiding underneath his sleeves. Suddenly, Josh rolled over, sitting up and holding out his hand. 

"Give me your arm Tyler." 

Tyler's eyes grew wide. Never - not once since the weeks following the fateful phone call - had Josh asked to see his scars, or asked about it at all. 

"Josh- I-" Tyler desperately struggled to get out of this, but his best friend's eyes locked onto his with a gaze so intense that Tyler found his arm moving robotically into Josh's grip, scars suddenly burning through the painful numbness of the nights air. 

Josh stared at them for a long time, not saying anything, and then whispered: 

"What goes through your head?" 

Tyler swallowed to stop the answer leaping from his lips immediately. He wanted so badly to talk to Josh, to tell him every little thing he kept in the dark part of his soul. But he had to wait, had to pace himself to prevent the words from burning his throat on their way up. Too many of them could do that. More importantly, he had to protect Josh from the never-ending onslaught of it all. If his best friend heard it all at once, like Tyler did day after day, he feared that it would overwhelm him. Maybe even make him leave. 

"I hear... Music."

Josh did a double take, but before he could question Tyler, the boy continued. 

"Not exactly music... Music that doesn't have a song yet. Or a song that doesn't have music yet. I'm not sure. It's like the skeleton buildings we used to climb. It's there and I know it is but it's not... Ready yet." 

"And this music... These songs... They make you- you know- hurt yourself?" 

Tyler laughed softly, looking up at his friend, who was staring intently at his arm, as if trying to read words in the scars that adorned his wrist. He was trying to understand. Tyler loved him for it. He'd been 8 years old when he'd met Josh, yet nearly nine years later, he still had to remind himself from time to time that Josh was real, and that he was actually lucky enough to call Josh his best friend. 

"Not really," he said, calculating his reply, "it's what I feel afterwards... I guess I don't know why I do it. I just do. We read about it in class, you know? And I thought- I guess it must help. If so many people do it then how could it not..."

"You said it hurt- On the phone, ages ago, you said it hurt. Why do you do it, Ty? If it hurts, if it scares you so much... Why?" 

Tyler was silent for a long time before he spoke. 

"Because it hurts." 

They fell softly into silence, and the darkness pulled the two into a tight embrace, smothering them both in the safety they'd taken comfort in since they were twelve years old. The night whispered in their ears that no matter how dark their conversation became, their surroundings will always be darker - and nobody ever judges the night for its colour. Tyler's arm was still clasped in Josh's hands, and he could feel Josh lightly stroking the bumps running up his arms. A warmth grew inside him at the touch, so gentle and paralleled to the contact the arm was used to. 

They both woke up with a cold the next morning, but neither boy seemed to care all that much.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> that's it for now! The ending is a little awkward and it's not the perfect ending sentence but I really wanted to get a chapter up for you guys! I hope you enjoyed it, and please leave a comment if you have anything to say about it!


	3. you are falling too

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter is up! I'm so so sorry for the wait guys - I could insult you by listing an entire slew of excuses, but instead of doing that I'm just going to make a promise that it won't happen again (at least not for a few chapters...)
> 
> Very slight trigger warning for this chapter, but nothing TOO serious or graphic, just a small pre warning! I hope you enjoy x

The winter only plummeted deeper, chilling their small town to the bone. Tyler would take note of the trees. Like the stadium lights of the football field when they were switched off, Tyler considered the trees nothing when they were stripped down to the ugly, bare skeletons that remained. Those leaves that had survived the purging Autumn winds scattered the ground haphazardly, crunching quietly beneath Tyler's shoes as he would walk. It was Josh who had pointed out the beauty of these naked trees, late at night amongst the deathly chill. It began with a phone call, the way all of Tyler's worst and most important experiences did. 

"Ty?"

Tyler's heart snapped in two at the sound of his best friend's voice on the other end of the line. It was one in the morning, but Josh's voice sounded painfully awake, dripping with so many different emotions that Tyler was struggling to identify them all.

"Josh?" He whispered into the receiver, half hoping he wouldn't have to hear the pain soaked voice again, half hating himself for even thinking that. 

"Ty....I need help." 

"Where are you, Josh?

Tyler was out of bed almost immediately, throwing on his shoes and trying to use his shoulder to keep his phone next to his ear. Somehow he couldn't bring himself to just put the phone on speaker. This was a conversation meant to be had with as much space between Tyler and Josh as possible, despite how far they were from eachother. Tyler couldn't just let Josh's words fall carelessly into the air of his darkened bedroom. 

"I don't...know... It's cold...."

"Why did you leave your house?" 

Tyler flinched as he completed the sentence. He hadn't said Josh's name, as he had at the end of every other sentence. Without it there to complete the words, to comfort Josh, the sentence felt foreign, as though it were slipping off somebody else's tongue. 

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. You're mad, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have left I'll - I'll go home." 

Tyler felt his throat close up at his best friend's voice, his repetitive speech, the shallowness of his breathing... Josh was having a panic attack. 

"Josh," Tyler half-sighed, half-snapped into the receiver, trying to put as much emphasis into the name as his voice could muster, "Josh, please listen to me, okay?" 

Josh sniffled, drawing in another weak, disjointed breath. Tyler could hear the cold clinging to the inside of his friends raspy throat, and concern swelled in his chest, forcing tears to spring from his eyes. 

"Do you remember the reason you left your house Josh?" He whispered gently, easing his friend back into the topic at hand, but Josh stayed silent, drawing in one irregular breath at a time. 

"Do you know how far you've walked?"

Josh sniffled a little, trying to put together a rational thought. It was embarrassing, not being able to answer Tyler's simple questions. But they weren't simple. Everything in his mind was covered by a dull ache, and his senses were picking up too much - too much noise, too much light, to many smells and sounds and voices in the crisp air of the night. Everything was too much, and Josh tasted blood on his tongue as he forced himself to breathe. 

"I left... What time is it..?"

"One thirty in the morning," Tyler answered immediately. 

Josh ran a hand through his hair and heaved a long, shallow breath. "I left... Just before one... I've been walking for half an hour... I think, Tyler, I don't know. I don't know anything, I'm sorry..."

"That's good, Josh, that's really good. I'm gonna come find you, okay? Stay on the phone, alright Josh? I'll come find you." 

Josh nodded, before realising Tyler couldn't see him, and sank to the ground beneath him. The concrete was cold against his skin, which was bare and vulnerable to the effect of the early winter morning. Josh hadn't had time to get changed or put on something warmer, and his thin pyjama shorts, and the bitter air was beginning to turn his skin numb. 

When Tyler did find him - 15 minutes away from his house at a small park they used to meet up when they were younger - he had almost completely lost consciousness. The cold had begun to claim the parts of his mind that weren't hurting him, allowing him to be completely swallowed up by the darkness that had driven him out of his house at 1 in the morning. The stars retold the story once, twice.... Again and again, telling Josh he was wrong, that he was a failure...

And then Tyler's arms were around him, and his whole body was shaking... Shaking... Because he was weak. Tyler shouldn't be here. Tyler should be in bed. This was wrong. Wrong. 

Tyler could barely comprehend what he was doing as he rushed to the side of his best friend, wrapping him in his arms. Josh's pale skin was wet with leftover rainwater from the day before, and stained with blood and dirt. With shivering hands, Tyler wiped the dirt and mud from Josh's knees to reveal two deep grazes, dribbling streams of blood down each leg. He worked on auto pilot, removing his hoodie and draping it around Josh's shoulders, willing him to put his arms through the sleeves.

"Look, I know I'm skinnier than you Josh, but you gotta keep warm okay?" 

Josh whimpered slightly, still refusing to put his arm through the hole as he slowly lifted his head, scanning Tyler up and down. 

"T-Tyler, you c-can't. You'll be c-cold." 

In any other situation, Tyler would have laughed. Josh was truly more worried about Tyler getting cold, despite his current near-hypothermic state. But there was no humour in him tonight, and despite the fact that Tyler's heart swelled slightly, he maintained a sober and concerned expression as he gently guided Josh's arm into the sleeve. 

"We're not far from my house, it's okay, I'll be fine. You need to get warm."

Josh mutely nodded, clinging to the thick fabric like a lifeline. The strands of cotton seemed to coil around him, clinging to his damp and sodden skin. The smell and feel of Tyler was all over the hoodie, comforting Josh with words of assurance that weren't really there - everything that Tyler wanted to say, but couldn't force out his clammy throat. 

Tyler couldn't take his eyes off his best friend. He'd always been paler than Tyler, quite considerably, but as he wrapped an arm around Josh's shoulders, he couldn't help but flinch at the sight of Josh's fish belly white skin. Soft blue veins flashed through the almost translucent flesh of Josh's wrist, and suddenly, as Tyler drank in the pitiful appearance of Josh's body, he had the shuddering sense that this was all Josh was. Flesh. Reduced to skin and bones. In one terrifying moment, Tyler was no longer faced with the Josh Dun who skinned his knees falling from a tree because he wanted to climb faster than Tyler, not the one who lay illuminated by starlight as he spilled his secrets into the night air. The night was no longer his friend - it had taken hold of him and wrapped him in cruel tendrils, staining then tips of his fingers and the rims of his eyes red. He was no longer Josh Dun, because Josh Dun had retreated into himself the moment his body had set foot into the streets of Columbus at one in the morning. Something inside Tyler's friend had died, leaving him hollow. Empty. Merely a shell, a vessel moving his fogged brain from place to place - dragging him everywhere he didn't want to be. 

Tyler knew the feeling. But he didn't want Josh to know the feeling. He wanted Josh to be the happy one. The okay one. The reality of the situation was, Josh's demons were part of the thing that drew Tyler to him in the first place. He wasn't alone. Neither of them were. 

So Tyler carried the shell that was Josh back to his house, setting him softly on the bed as he spoke low and calm, about the long grass in the garden and how somebody ought to cut it, and how the moon hung low in the sky tonight. He spoke about nothing in particular, everything designed as a ruse to coax his best friend into coming back to him. Words tumbled out of him, spilling everywhere as he almost pleaded with the boy to return. The words were anything and everything that came to Tyler's mind. He held nothing back, because this was Josh, and he would do anything to wake his friend up, to hear his voice, to hear anything except the hollow sounds of Josh's breathing, through the thickness that the early morning air had instilled inside his chest. They were excerpts from his journal that Tyler had committed to memory. They were the lyrics to his songs - both existent and non-existent. They were his hopes and fears and dreams and nightmares. They were desperation, pure and simple. 

Every word Tyler spoke came out sounding dusty and ragged, falling awkwardly into the night air of his bedroom. He was desperate. Desperate to help his friend, the way his friend had helped him. Desperate to be worth something to Josh, to be someone to him. The love he felt for the boy he'd met on the playground swelled in his heart as words continued to tumble off the steam rising from his breath in the cold air of his room. Mist filled the air as Tyler hummed tunes and stroked Josh's hair, thinking back through all the times he'd subconsciously promised Josh his soul, swearing to himself that nothing would ever hurt this boy on Tyler's watch. 

Well, that was a failure, wasn't it Tyler? 

He laughed (whether the laugh was audible or not, Tyler would never recall, but nevertheless, it was the driest, most humourless laugh that any human could be capable of.) Of course his own demons had to come back now, of all times. He was useless. His words were useless, cutting his throat like glass, but never ceasing to fall, as Tyler directed them straight into Josh's ear. It was almost as though they weren't supposed to be there - as though his words didn't belong within the confines of his bedroom - a few feet from the spot Tyler had knelt (more than once), with blood running down his skin. It was always the same spot. No matter how many times Tyler scrubbed, how many newspapers he put down, he could always see the blood on the floor. Of course, nobody else could see it. Josh couldn't see it, his parents couldn't see it. Because it wasn't actually there. In reality, Tyler scrubbed the carpet raw after every bad night. And to anyone that wasn't Tyler, the carpet was nothing but pristine. But in Tyler's eyes, that spot would always be red. 

Red. 

The carpet. Red.   
His wrists. Red.   
His mind. Red.   
Josh's eyes. Red.   
Their friendship. Red.   
The sky. Red. 

Everything. 

Red.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's all for now! Thank you all so much for reading, and I really hope you enjoyed it! I'm not sure where I'm going with this story, and I'm sorry I'm putting our little teenage beans through so much right now, but angst is the only thing I can even come close to writing with any real quality, and as you can see it still falls pretty short. ON THAT NOTE - please, please, PLEASE review and comment and let me know what you thought of this chapter/the story as a whole so far! I appreciate any and all feedback, and it honestly means the world to me to hear anything about how you've regarded my writing (including constructive criticism!) 
> 
> Anyway, I'm not going to promise that the next chapter will be up "soon", and rather, I'm just going to say it'll be up "as soon as possible". Because I'll be working on it every spare moment I have, just for you guys!
> 
> Please take care of yourselves  
> Until the next time frens |-/

**Author's Note:**

> thank you so much for reading friends, it means the world to me. If you wanted to leave any feedback that would make my day, please do, I appreciate any and all compliments/criticisms of my work 
> 
> Stay alive |-/


End file.
